The Enchanted Rose (16 page)

“What?” I tilt my head slightly, perplexed by this idea.

“During the wedding ceremony, the priest will ask if we accept one another. Why not say that we don’t? What could they do to us?” 

“I just watched my mother murder two people because they might interfere with the wedding somehow. At this point, I believe Jossa will do anything to ensure that everything goes according to her plan.” 

“I am sorry. And you’re right. Perhaps that isn’t the best idea. I just wish there was a simple solution to all of this. I had hoped that we would get our happily ever after. I want you to know, if you didn’t love Osric and I didn’t love Madrid, I think we could be happy together. At least, I would’ve been willing to give it a shot.” He chuckles. 

I smile, despite not wanting to. But how can I not, with Chavez there to make me feel at least a little better about all of this? “I think you’re right. But for better or worse, I do love Osric and you do love Madrid. Which means that unless there’s a miracle, our happily ever after can’t happen.” 

“Don’t give up, Roselyn. We’ll find a way to fix it.” 

Gwydion explains what he wishes to do, and all I can do is respond with a nod. While I’ve been wallowing, he is trying to implement a plan that could prevent this sort of disaster from ever happening again. 

“So, as prince of Wentsden, as royalty in Avonathia, do you hereby give me permission to go through with this plan, assuming the fairies are able and willing?” he asks. 

“Yes. Call them forth, and we will see what they have to say on the matter,” I say, waiting to hear if they will follow through, or if they will demand to be freed. 

Gwydion calls each fairy’s name aloud. “Daria!  Erimentha! Hera! Ismene! Ophelia! Sophronia! Pandora!” As their names are said, they appear beside him. 

“You have called upon us,” says the last fairy to arrive. She has an air about her that demands to be treated above the others. Suddenly, I wish I knew their stories. All of them. 

“I, Gwydion, am no longer a wizard alone, but have taken reign as Oracle and keeper of magic over Avonathia. I hereby break our original contracts for you to serve me until your debts are paid.” 

“Are you freeing us, master?” Ophelia asks. For being human-sized fairies, their voices seem so small.

“In a way. I would like to request a change in how your payment to me will be made. As you know, magic has been hurt. People have kept terrible secrets, and many have lost their lives in a battle they didn’t know they were fighting. The prince and I would like to ask that you no longer be fairies alone, but instead, you become what we would call fairy godmothers.”
“And what does this mean, Gwydion?” Pandora asks. 

“It means that you would no longer just be of magic. You would have the power to gift magic to others. You would watch over all royalty and help them in their greatest times of need. When the moment arises, and a royal being should fall in love with a commoner,” Gwydion winks at me, “you would have the ability to give that commoner magic, so they do not have to feel like they do not belong for the rest of their life. And as a royal baby comes to life, you would gift that baby with a special talent, something that suits them in a way that will bless their life and the lives around them. As such, you would be known as keepers of fate, fairy godmothers sent to watch over royalty, keepers of magic within each kingdom.” 

“And how long do we serve as fairy godmothers?” This time, the fairy dressed in blue speaks. 

“Until your debt is paid, or until another fairy is able to take your place, should you be willing to train that fairy properly,” he says. 

“Royal guardians? Whatever for?” asks the fairy in silver. 

“In due time, the word will come out. But at this moment, a kingdom suffers from lies spread by commoners attempting to be royal. With a fairy godmother in each kingdom, we could erase this kind of problem forever.” 

“You say this is the way our debts will be paid, but you make it sound like an honor. Which is it, Gwydion?” asks the fairy in green. 

“Both. This is a way you can repay what you owe me by making my job simpler, but it is an honor. You have the power to stop something before it even begins.” 

“Something you said stands out to me, and I must know what you speak of. You said, ‘should royalty marry a commoner.’ When has that happened?” Pandora asks. 

“At this very moment, there is a queen out there who should not be wearing a crown. She is not royalty, but she has lied so all the land would believe she is. Aside from this queen, there is not another instance where royalty has married a commoner. However, with what the prince and I know, that is about to change, and your assistance will be required almost immediately.”  “I accept the change in our contract,” Pandora says. 

“I do as well,” Ophelia agrees. 

“And I,” is repeated five more times by the remaining fairies. 

Gwydion stands and the fairies back up, standing in a row before him. I stand by his side and am grateful that the fairies have accepted. 

“I give to you the power as fairy godmothers to gift magic to those who need it. Those needs are such as a commoner marrying royalty, royalty needing assistance, and in the moments when you feel that someone, royalty or commoner alike, needs it. Daria, I appoint you to watch over Ferrell. Erimentha, I appoint you to watch over Garverdale. Hera, I appoint you to watch over Tivor. Ismene, I appoint you to watch over Elna. Ophelia, I appoint you to watch over Gowell. Sophronia, I appoint you to watch over Wentsden. Pandora, I appoint you to watch over Umare and the other fairies.” As Gwydion says each of their names, he uses his staff to gift each of them with what I assume to be a little extra magic. 

“I also give you the power to assist one another, should you need help. And in the greatest times of need, you may come to me for guidance and assistance.” 

Each fairy begins flapping her wings. They all have an extra glow about them. Though I’ve already been here far longer than I wanted to be, I am grateful I was able to witness something so tremendous. These fairies have the potential to stop anyone from doing what Jossa did ever again. 

I worry about Roselyn being so close to Jossa and not knowing the potential danger she is in, though she may have a good idea, considering that she witnessed Jossa’s brutality for herself.  

Each fairy takes flight. Watching them leave makes me happier than I should be, but it is my time to leave as well. Time to return to Tivor, expose Jossa, and free Roselyn from her grip. 

“Prince,” Gwydion calls to me. My heart stops. From the way he says that one word, I have the most dreadful feeling that he is not going to allow me to leave just yet.

“Yes?” I turn back.

“Be careful. And good luck.” 

I choke up. “Thank you, Gwydion. For everything.” 

Saying good-bye to Gwydion is harder than I expected. We started this journey as strangers, but through it all, he sacrificed more than I could ever hope for to ensure that I could be with Rose. 

The wedding is today. Perhaps at this very moment, she is walking down the aisle. I didn’t bother to ask what time the ceremony would take place. All I know is that I have to make it there before she says

“I do.” 

I climb down the mountain as precariously as I climbed up it. It takes time and it is painful, but I continue down, knowing that if I stop, if I rest, if I take a breath for too long, I could miss my chance at being with the love of my life.

My fingers are almost as blue as the sky, they’re so cold. My arms feel as if they are jelly. The lack of magic has weakened me, but having it back feels like my body is still trying to heal. 

I lower myself down until the bottom is in sight. When I am only a few feet from it, I jump to the ground. I look around for the horses, but then I remember that we did not ride horses. Fuentes brought us, and it appears he has left. 

“Fuentes!” I call to the skies, begging for him to return. He must not be close enough to hear me. With a frustrated sigh, I begin running. At this rate, I will never make it. But until I have confirmed that Roselyn is married, I will not stop. I will not rest. It doesn’t matter if I have to make my entire journey on foot. I can’t give up. Not now. 

I run, though my legs are weak. I fear I will pass out and never be found again. Tears well up in my eyes, and I do not care if I appear weak. Roselyn is my everything, and losing her would be my undoing.

I can’t lose her.

I promised her I would fix magic. I would undo the damage I caused, and I would return for her. And now I am about to fail the person I love most in the biggest way possible. The pain of just thinking about it causes me to stumble. 

I catch my footing before landing on my face, but it slows me down greatly. I push harder. I look back and note how far I’ve come. Perhaps I can get to Tivor before the wedding, assuming it isn’t already over. 

A dust cloud rises and stops me in my tracks as I have a coughing fit. I look up to find the dragon standing before me. “Had you waited two more seconds, Your Highness, I could have saved you the trouble of going on foot.” He leans down so I can climb upon his back. 

“Thank you!” I sigh, my shoulders relaxing. I lean down and hug his back as he takes off. 

“I promised your mother I would help you, and I do not plan to break that promise.” He spreads his wings, flapping them up and down as he soars higher into the sky. 

Jossa watches over me as Nadi helps me into my wedding gown. It’s a beautiful dress, if it weren’t made for such an ugly affair. Silver lines the seams, accentuating my waist and the sleeves. White roses trail down the full skirts and train. Madrid stands in the corner, far away from the queen, and waits to fetch things for me or Nadi, should we need them.  

Once I’m in the dress and seated so my hair can be put up, Jossa leaves, commanding two guards to watch the door to ensure I do not run away. Little do they know that if I escape, it would be through my window. 

I truly hope that Osric will climb through that window at any moment. He doesn’t know about Jossa, or the fact that Chavez and I couldn’t stop the wedding. I feel like I have failed the one man I love. I promised him I would fix this, and I haven’t. I can’t.

We’re out of time, and I have no more excuses. There is talk that when you’re about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. That is how I feel at this moment. 

No, I’m not about to die, but my life is going to end. Chavez is a wonderful person, someone who will make a princess very happy someday. But I can’t be that princess. Osric is the one and only for me. Marrying anyone but him means my life of happiness is over. 

Time passes so slowly. My hair is finished, my jewelry is polished, and they put my necklace on, then my earrings. A bracelet is added to my wrist for good measure. The tiara is slowly lowered and set atop my immaculate hair. But no matter how pretty they try to make me, this is the ugliest I’ve ever felt. 

I become a statue, unmoving, unfeeling, lifeless, preparing for the events about to unfold. I wish I could speak to Chavez, but as wedding tradition goes, I will not see him until the actual ceremony begins. 

“Your Highness, your bouquet is ready. Would you prefer to hold it now, or wait until the ceremony?” Madrid asks, speaking to me as if she were any regular servant. I know she does it to protect us both from Jossa’s wrath, but I do not care about Jossa anymore. 

“Just set it on the table. I will pick it up before I go downstairs.” I don’t bother looking at it. I do not wish to see it. Jossa, thinking she was ever so clever, had the wedding hall decorated with the deepest red roses I’ve ever seen. I don’t doubt she had my bouquet made from the same flowers. 

“Of course, Your Highness.” She sets the flowers on the table and disappears behind me, I assume to put the finishing touches on my hair. I do not know why Jossa insisted I dress so early in the day. The ceremony is not for several more hours, and now I am trapped in my room until then. 

A servant appears before me with a tray of food. She places it on the table and leaves. Madrid hands me a small plate with little sandwiches on it. I assume Jossa made sure I was given a minimal amount of food and something not messy to ensure that I did not ruin my dress. 

Out of spite, I’m tempted to ruin it anyway, but I don’t. I eat properly, meticulously. The day passes slowly. I’m pretty sure I nod off in the chair a few times, but I am not allowed to lie down or move until my father comes to walk me down the aisle. 

The time has come. King Inginio stands at my door, his arm out so I can take it. What should be the most anticipated walk of my life feels like a death march instead. But I take his arm anyway. 

“You look lovely, my beautiful Roselyn.” He smiles, and it’s the first real smile I’ve seen on his face for quite some time. 

“Thank you.” I look down and realize I don’t have my bouquet. “Father, we must return to my quarters. I do not have my flowers.” 

He nods and leads me back to my room. Thankfully, I noticed before we made it to the wedding hall—what used to be the grand hall. I rush into my room and head straight for the table. I reach down to grab my flowers without looking and prick my thumb. A small bead of blood drips down. 

I look at the flowers, shocked that there would be thorns left on them. A dozen roses, and my thumb grazed the only one with a thorn. I look closer. It isn’t a dozen red roses. It is eleven red roses, and one rose that is almost pure white once more. 

The hope I lost returns once more. The sick rose looks healthy. Only the very rim at the top is still red. The rest has begun to change to its original enchanted white. 

There’s an extra bounce in my step as I take my father’s arm once more and walk with him to where everyone awaits. Music begins playing, and my father leads me down the aisle. I make a note of all the faces we pass. 

Queen Krea and King Romondino; King Jareth, and a woman I do not know beside him. King Nicklaus and Queen Amber. But seeing Queen Shanice, King Valentino, Prince Alaric, and Prince Ulric breaks my heart. They came, and they too are saddened by the sight they see. 

I’m walking down the aisle, but the man I walk toward is not their son. I suddenly wonder if I should have spoken to them once more. Could they have helped us? But they sit, and they watch, and they say and do nothing. 

I can’t fault them. I just wish I was approaching Osric. 

The priest drones on and on about marriage and what it means. I might be interested in his speech if I were standing up here clasping hands with someone else, but not with Chavez. Instead, I allow my mind to wander.

I try to think of anything else but this very moment. What could I have done differently? 

Love always finds a way. If that were true, why has it not found a way for us? For Madrid and Chavez? Why has love not made its way into Jossa’s heart and shown her that this isn’t right? 

And why does the king look so pleased with this arrangement when I couldn’t be more upset? Do they not see what this will do to me? The only one who looks at me with pity, with sadness, is Queen Shanice. Well, and Chavez. 

Shanice seems to understand. She continues to look back at the doors just as I am doing, and I wonder if she’s hoping her son arrives at any moment, just like I am. 

“Do you, Prince Chavez, take Princess Roselyn to be your lawfully wedded wife?” 

I look at Chavez, waiting to hear his answer. He looks at me, looks at his mother and father, and glances at Queen Jossa. Whatever he sees must convince him that he has no other choice. “I do,” he says, looking at me apologetically. 

“And do you, Princess Roselyn, take Prince Chavez to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

I look out into the crowd once more. I can’t stall, but I can’t answer the question, either. If I say yes, I am throwing my life away and allowing Jossa to win. If I say no, she may have the same fate in mind for me as she did those farmers. 

But the outcome will be the same either way. I lose. 

“I d—”  

The doors burst open, and walking toward me is Osric. I can’t stop myself. I throw the veil from my head, pick up my skirts, and run toward him. He catches me as I jump into his arms, and though more than an entire kingdom is watching, I kiss him. 

I’m not sure if he’s more surprised by my jumping onto him or the kiss, but he doesn’t hesitate in returning it. “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“And I you,” he whispers. 

“How dare you burst in here in the middle of a wedding? You have no right to be here. I demand that you leave at once. And Roselyn, you had best get back up to that altar and finish what you were about to say before you make any more embarrassing mistakes.” Jossa stands in the aisle with us, staring us down. 

I let go of Osric and face the queen. “I don’t,” I say loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“Excuse me?” If Jossa’s face could become any redder, it would. 

“I don’t accept Prince Chavez as my lawfully—or unlawfully—wedded husband. I will not marry him.” 

“Yes, you will,” she commands. 

“I will not. I will marry for love, and love alone. For too long, you have tried to control me, to change how I feel about Osric. For whatever reason, you do not want me to be with him, but I am sorry—I would sooner die than marry anyone but him.” I take his hand and pull him to my side, leaning on him for strength. 

“I would not care if you married a toad so long as it got you out of my way! The king is the one who does not wish for you to marry him. So he has spoken; there is nothing more to discuss. You will marry Chavez, and tomorrow, you will leave with him for Elna.” 

“No, she won’t. You have no power over her, Jossa.” Osric speaks. It surprises me, but I’m not complaining. 

“I am
Queen
Jossa to you. How dare you speak to me in such a patronizing tone?” she shrieks. 

“Because you are a liar. You are queen by marriage, and only so. I know the truth, and you are not royalty unless King Inginio forgives your lies and keeps you.” I turn to him in shock. His words make sense, but I never expected him to speak to her this way, to defend me in front of all these people.

“What are you talking about?” King Inginio steps forward now, outraged at the assumptions and accusations. 

“Roselyn is not your daughter. She was born to a farmer and his wife. Jossa paid them and took their daughter to pass off as her own. The real princess, your true daughter, has been hidden in plain sight as the princess’s maid.”

I look to Madrid, standing in the back. She’s the princess? I’m not the princess? I’m truly not Jossa’s daughter?

“That is preposterous! Why would you concoct such a story? I demand that you leave at once.” Jossa points to the door.

“These are very serious claims, Prince. I suggest that you show proof to back them up, or do as the queen says and leave, never to return to Tivor,” the king demands. 

Now I worry. Would Osric come here without proof? 

“Madrid, please come forward,” Osric says, glaring at Inginio and Jossa. 

“Yes, Your Highness?” She curtsies to Osric. 

“Do not treat me as though we are not equals. Show the king your birthmarks.” 

Madrid does as she is told and walks forward, allowing the king to see the marks on her face. He examines them, but still appears utterly confused.

“What of them, boy?” 

I hear shuffling, and turn to notice Shanice and Valentino standing behind me and Osric. I suppose that when their son is threatened, so are they. 

“It didn’t make sense at first why, when the storm broke, and magic was being wiped away, that Roselyn’s features changed slightly. It also didn’t make sense when Madrid appeared to have birthmarks that weren’t there before. But I didn’t piece it together until Selma told us that the person responsible for the storm was the woman who shouldn’t be queen. 

“Mind you, it took a while for us to understand what she was talking about. It took another riddle regarding murder for us to find out the truth. You married a commoner, King Inginio. She pretended to be royalty so she could rule. It’s all she cared about it. She’s already said that she just wants Roselyn out of the way.” 

“Where are you going with this? I suggest you be very clear.” King Inginio seems to be more and more frustrated. Jossa says nothing as Osric speaks. 

“She pretended to be royalty so she could marry you. You two wed and had a child. A baby girl. That girl is Madrid. But she was born with these marks on her face. For whatever reason, Jossa was embarrassed or ashamed. She was afraid that Madrid would be ugly, and no prince would want her. How could she get rid of the child if she couldn’t marry her off? 

“So she concocted a plan to find a baby girl she could purchase to pass off as her own. She found Roselyn. She allowed Madrid to grow up in the castle as a servant, and the farmer’s daughter grew up as the princess. They grew close, became friends, and Roselyn asked that Madrid be her maid rather than a helping hand in the castle.